Snake In The Grass
by like.no.ones.watching
Summary: I am Harry Potter. I was sorted into the House of Gryffindor, but unofficially, I was very much a Slytherin. This is my story.


Hey everyone! This it my new story! please let me know what you guys think if it so far, should I continue, or nip it inthe butt right now? i would love to have your oppinion! I will try to update every saturday night, barring any acts of God or tests. I' am in college now, so my update schedule may be a bit iffy. Enjoy! LNOW

Snake in the Grass

Prologue

My name is Harry Potter. I am also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, and the Man Who Defeated. I am a wizard. I went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was sorted into the House of Gryffindor, but unofficially, I was very much a Slytherin. This is my story.

* * *

"Why are we still doing this, Harry?" Dudley muttered, as they lay on their backs, heads next to each other, but feet on opposite ends, looking at the stars. They were in a largely unused section of the playground two blocks away from their home in Number Four, Privet Drive. "Why don't we just go to them? Maybe they'll listen to me. Maybe they'll listen when I tell them you're not bad. That you deserve better? That you at least deserve a real room, with a real bed, and a window. Why do you live with pretending to be weak? Why do you ask me to pretend, every day that I hate you as much as they do?"

This was not the first time they had had conversations like this. They always ended the same way; with the same decisions, but different words. "Because, Dudley, someday I'm going to get out of here. I'm going to go far, far away, and it'll be a lot easier to do if they underestimate me. If they think I'm weak, that I won't be able to live out on my own. Maybe they'll even let me go, if only to hope that I _won't_ survive out there. And then they'll forget all about me. I'll just be a person they think of when Uncle Vernon is having trouble at work, or when Aunt Petunias roast gets a bit too burned, or when petrol prices go up. Things they would normally blame on me. And I'm okay with that, as long as I'm not there anymore. That's why you have to pretend every day. Because it's my only chance to survive past the age of fifteen. Harry replied. The words were whispered, barely audible in the nearly silent night. The sound of crickets chirping was almost enough to drown them out, just loud enough to make it to the ear of his cousin, less than a foot away.

"Yeah. I guess. Where do you think you'll go?" Dudley said the words with the air of someone who was largely resigned, but with an edge of wistfulness that hadn't been heard for quite a while from someone in the Dursley household.

"I don't know. I don't really care, either, as long as it's not anywhere in the surrounding three counties. I think that'll be far enough away. Even if they did find me, I doubt Uncle Vernon would be very compelled to come and get me back." There was silence for a few minutes after that comment then, "you could come with me, you know. We could both get out of here. We could just leave." It was something that had never been mentioned out loud, but always still there.

"No, Harry, I couldn't." and they both knew why.

"Yeah, I guess I figured that." They sat in silence for a few more minutes, before the alarm on Dudley's watch went off and they both got up from the ground to make their way back to the house, Harry moving a bit faster, so as to be able to start dinner before Dudley got back. Hopefully that would deter any excess punishment for that knight.

* * *

"Happy birthday, Harry" whispered Dudley from his position on the ragged old couch when the alarm on his watch marked the midnight hour of the beginning of Harry's birthday.

"Thanks, Dudley." And he gave a small smile before blowing on the little dirt drawing of a cake and candles before a loud BOOM echoed off the walls of the shack, and Dudley grabbed onto him, pulling them both to the far wall and standing slightly in front of the smaller boy. Another boom sounded as Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, came down the stairs. Uncle Vernon started blithering something about being armed, looking rather comical with his double barrel rifle. If the situation weren't quite so serious, Harry might have made a comment under his breath about hunting wabbits. Almost as soon as he thought it though, another great boom shook the old shack, followed immediately by a loud, jarring crash as the door was taken clearly off its hinges and fell inside the little hut. A great, hulking man (was it even a man? It was so big!) was standing in the doorway, and had to duck under the doorframe in order to come inside, and even that was a bit of a tight fit. He brought his head back up, and all that could be seen beneath the great mass of scraggly hair covering his head and face was the barest hint of cheeks and glittering, beady eyes.

"Don' s'pose yeh coul' spare a cuppa tea, eh?" Said the man in a heavy accent, before he took a look at the pitiful attempt at a fire in the grate and fiddled a bit with it. When he was done, he stood up and where there were only a few measly flames before there was now a roaring fire sending warmth through the room. The large man took a heavy seat on the couch and heaved a sigh, before looking around the room, and snatching the gun from the hands of Uncle, twisting it into a knot and calling him a "Great Prune" when he seemed to get tired of the incessant prattling on about "breaking and entering" and "the authorities", after which he looked at Dudley and started going on about not seeing him since he was small enough to fit in one hand (which wouldn't have been too hard, to be honest, as they were the size of trash can lids. Harry could probably still manage it, if he curled up tight enough),before Dudley stated that there must be some mistake, and that he wasn't Harry, at which time, Harry ducked around Dudley (despite his efforts to stop him and keep him hidden in the background) and said that he was in fact Harry. The giant man chuckled to himself at his mistake, and wished Harry a very happy birthday. Where he pulled that cake out of, Harry would never know. In later years, he would suspect that Hagrid (for that was how he introduced himself) had asked one of the professors to put an expansion charm on his many pockets of his coat). After they settled a bit, Hagrid pulled out a letter, addressed to Mr. H Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. Remarkably accurate, that was. Harry stared at the crest on the envelope for a few seconds (one of a lion, badger, snake and raved, superimposed with an "H") before breaking the seal and reading the contents of the letter. Huh. A wizard, was he? Well, he had to admit that made a lot of sense. All the odd things he could do. He hardly thought that being able to float or make a small ball of light in his hand or change the length of his hair at will were at all normal talents for the every-day population. Nor did he think that common garden snakes had conversation with many other people. Yes, being a wizard made perfect sense. He thought this all as he read the letter out loud.

"What does it mean, they await my owl?" Harry inquired in a surprisingly calm voice. This spurred Hagrid into action, pulling odds and ends (including a live owl) from his coat pockets, and jotting down a note and attaching it to the leg of the owl before unceremoniously tossing the owl out into the storm.

There followed some conversation about "stamping the freakiness out of him" and "not be going" followed by an angry "CAR CRASH?!" oh, apparently his parents hadn't been drunk lay-abouts. That was certainly comforting to learn, even more comforting than learning that he wasn't the only one able to do "freaky" things. Not so comforting was the fact that apparently his scar that he had previously taken quite a bit of pride in was apparently a mark that he was still rather abnormal, even by wizarding standards. In the end, he was following Hagrid out the door, sending a look back at Dudley promising his return, and getting an understanding nod of farewell in return, before he was unexpectedly blown into Hagrid by the gale-force winds. As they were departing from the hut, Harry couldn't help but think that this was exactly the chance he needed to get away.


End file.
